Substitute
by Duckula Sunk My ROFLship
Summary: While Lithuania is still bandaged and unable to move, Russia needs a new sex slave. France will do just fine. Sequel to Bitten though can be taken on its own .


_The Allies were having a party. England and America were on a double date with Canada and Wales that night, but everyone else was very drunk. A lot of the smaller Allied countries were there too. France was hitting on all of them. But then everything happened. _

"Has everyone tried some of this, aru?" I heard China slur from the food table. I licked the ear of the country I was with and moved onto the one next to her. I rubbed myself up and down their side and put my hands under their shirt and felt around. Male. Didn't make any difference to me. I looked up to see who it was.

Russia

I hastily removed my hands and stumbled back, almost falling over. He smiled that innocent, happy smile and reached for me. He took my shoulder and I felt myself being pulled towards him, though my feet fought against this movement. He held me close and leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"You want some of this?" he hissed. I nodded automatically, and mentally kicked myself for it. This was _not_ a country you fooled around with. Bad things happened to those who did. I'd heard Lithuania was unable to move with a life-threatening wound at the moment. He put his arm around my waist and pulled me even closer, impossible though it seemed. I gulped.

"You've caught me at a good time. I also want someone – _anyone_. And you'll do just fine." He slipped _his_ hands under _my_ shirt and I shivered. They were like blocks of ice. He began nibbling on the top of my ear and I gazed longingly at the pretty countries on the other side of the room. I'd got myself into this mess. He smoothed his hands over my chest and hooked his leg round mine. Then he started kissing me, and I could feel my breath _condensing_ from the cold. His tongue froze my saliva, but was never satisfied, taking, taking, demanding, _taking_ until I was panting for air.

He smiled against my neck and his teeth grazed against my skin dangerously. I had heard he was quite capable of ripping out someone's throat if he got his bite into them. I shuddered at the thought, and he took this as encouragement and reached for my belt. He took a firm hold on it, and then led me into another room. I had no choice but to follow.

He slammed me against the wall, making pain erupt in the back of my skull, and started undoing my belt. If we were going to have sex at least let it be romantic! I pulled out some roses, tucking two behind my ears and holding a third between my teeth. He seemed indifferent, so I bravely reached up and embedded a fourth in his hair. This was met without reaction. My underwear fell to the floor and he started taking off his own shirt. I helped him with the buttons and in due time we were both nude.

I took his frozen hand and kissed it, and he snatched a whip from a pocket in his coat and swung it down, hard. I grinned with the pain.

"No." he said abruptly. I felt confused. "I want to see the pain on your face. You have to be in _pain_." Then he hesitated. "I promised Lithuania I would only I would only play this game with him..."

"I'm sure he won't mind..." I said gently, placing one hand on his arm and another on the small of his back.

"No, he will. He likes this game a lot. He screams extra loud. I don't want to lose his trust. I wouldn't want him to leave me or anything, not like he did before..." Russia zoned out and I took advantage, reaching up and kissing him as my hand moved from his arm to... Lower. "Not yet!" he yelled, slapping me so hard I fell onto the floor. I got up and stepped close to him again, trailing my finger down his spine. I had to admit, even though his original plan had been to rape me, I was actually pretty turned on, and, well – if I was gonna have sex, I may as well enjoy it. I was screwed either way, in more ways than one.

After a few more moments of thought, he put the whip away. My throat was too dry to swallow when he got out a knife instead. It glinted in his hand as he walked towards me and I backed against the wall.

"What are you going to do with that?" I asked hoarsely. He just smiled darkly and put the tip at the bottom of my throat. My Adam's apple bobbed as I tried and failed to swallow again. He removed the knife, then put it back against my chest and started scratching cyrillic into my flesh. It wasn't deep enough to do any serious damage, but I knew it would scar. Then he leaned down and licked at the blood which was now leaking from the horrible characters, cat-like in his method. I said a prayer in French, and he paused, tongue on chest, to feel the vibrations of my speech. Then he continued lapping at the blood, afterwards getting a piece of paper and holding it against the lettering. The blood left a print of that writing on the paper and he held it up for me to see.

"'Property of Russia'," he translated with a happy smile.

"Sacrebleu..." I groaned, screwing my eyes shut.

Suddenly I felt his icy touch on my shoulders, pushing me onto the bed. He climbed on top of me and I winced every time he touched my chest. He licked my cheek and I tried to capture his mouth, but failed. He took the roses I'd adorned myself, broke the flower heads off, and drove the thorns into my throat. I made a small noise of pain and he roughly turned me over and had his way with me.

_Later that evening France was found sprawled naked on a bed, dazed, worn out, bleeding, with thorns embedded in the front of his neck, and alone, muttering something in French about there being no romance. There was a rose entwined with a strand of platinum hair placed over some strange characters which had been carved into his chest. _


End file.
